


blue skies

by nigiyakapepper



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigiyakapepper/pseuds/nigiyakapepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai and Aichi; afterwards. A re-imagining of Link Joker's end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. breath, skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written before the last four episodes of Link Joker.

There has been a new customer coming in at Card Capital, a fiery child who boasts he can bring even the great Suzugamori Ren to his knees with his cardfighting skills. Their table gets loud in the afternoons, and Misaki often has to shush them from her place behind the counter. The kid is a tad arrogant at times but his heart is in the right place. Nitta likes his enthusiasm and wants to help.

“Do you want to fight someone really strong?” he asks.

The kid and his friends turn to him, glowing with excitement. “Who?!”

“You might have hear his name before,” Nitta says conversationally. “Sendou Aichi.”

They wilt almost instantly. “Him?” one of them says. “He won only once! Ages ago! Then lost a ton of games. What’s the point of battling him?”

Nitta smiles. “Winning isn’t everything, you know. Sometimes you have to lose to gain something much more important.”

He brings them to the back of the shop where it’s quieter. There are tables for those who prefer more private fights, and in the corner of the room, two teenagers play a very quiet game of Vanguard.

Sendou Aichi, with soft blue hair that daintily fell just past his chin, has his back to them. Toshiki Kai, his bright-eyed opponent, sits across him, making peculiar gestures with his fingers on Aichi’s open palm. Aichi nods, as if in understanding, before drawing a card, holding it for a moment and adding it to his hand. In turn, he makes his own gestures and Kai lightly raps the play table once in response, watching Aichi’s hand movements signalling his attack and then the end of his turn.

“What are they doing,” the fiery kid deadpans at Nitta, off-put by their curious exchange. “Why aren’t they talking?”

“You’ll find out,” answers Nitta, all too knowing.

Aichi senses their guests before Kai notices. His face turns upward, recognizing a familiar presence in the air. Aichi gestures at Kai to pause their game before fully turning to make a different gesture at Nitta in greeting—his name.

“He—“ the kid starts.

“—can’t see,” Kai says, moving to stand by Aichi’s side. Large, once blue eyes that shone with kindness and stubborn determination are now clouded over, milky white, and stared at them unseeing. He has a small, expectant smile on his face, having recognized Nitta but not the others. He’s patiently waiting for an explanation, which Kai gives by gently taking his hand and signing into it.

“Or hear.” Aichi nods and stays close to him. “And?” Kai asks, turning to the group. “What do you need?”

Nitta’s brows form an apologetic ‘ha’. “I was hoping this little guy could fight Aichi.” He gives the feisty child a smart clap on the shoulder. Kai translates while Nitta speaks. “He’s very eager to fight strong opponents. I thought this’d help boost him in the right direction.”

The kid looks up at Nitta with a mix of fear and incredulity. He doesn’t know if he feels insulted, being asked to play against some unknown player, let alone someone who can neither hear nor see, but at the same time, he is inexplicably intimidated. Despite his appearance, there is a sure confidence that Sendou Aichi exudes.

He is signing.

“Sorry you’re playing against me,” Kai interprets. “Please take care of me,” and tuts in annoyance, giving Aichi a little shove before signing rapidly into his hand.

The children could almost hear their conversation.  _Stop saying that all the time. Have some more confidence in yourself._

Aichi sheepishly smiles in apology and they sit down to play.

“Um…how am I supposed to do this,” the kid asks as Aichi quickly shuffles his own deck and neatly places it in front of him to cut.

“Just play normally,” Kai says, standing by Aichi’s shoulder. “Well, slowly. Let him touch the units on your field once in a while so he knows what they are and where they are.”

“Stand up, Vanguard!” says the kid, voice oddly lonely without his opponent to shout with. Kai quickly signs into Aichi’s palm as the kid rides, calls, and ends his turn. Aichi gently moves to touch the cards on the playmat, careful not to displace them. He nods once and returns to his hand before riding and calling his own units, then gesturing his attack.

“Marron boosts Wingal and attacks your Vanguard,” Kai simply says.

“No guard,” the kid replies uncertainly, not entirely sure what or why he’s doing what he’s doing. A few turns later, the thrill of cardfight grips him and he regains his enthusiasm.

It’s an unusual game he plays with Sendou Aichi, nothing like he’s ever experienced yet. His friends look on, skeptical, confused, but altogether entranced. A few other patrons peek in on their game, and soon the crowd of spectators has grown.

Miwa and Kamui, who have been playing in the main area of the shop, come in just in time to see Aichi deal his opponent’s last damage.

The kid and his friends let out a cry of defeat, like fired fans at a soccer match, disappointed at a goal that almost made it. They are nonetheless in extremely good spirits, having just witnessed an incredible fight.

“Onii-san, you’re amazing!” the fiery child exclaims before remembering, as Aichi remains smiling and unresponsive toward his outburst. He instead grips Aichi’s hand tightly in both of his, much to Aichi’s surprise, and says again “Onii-san, you’re amazing. Thank you!” He jumps off the table, returning to the main room with his friends, ready to play several more rounds.

 _He thanked you,_  Kai signs.

 _That surprised me, but the kid was pretty good,_  Aichi signs back.

“Yo! Kai, Aichi,” Miwa greets and gives Aichi a light bump, announcing himself.

“Aichi-oniisan!” Kamui greets as well, giving his own little tap and Aichi signs their names in recognition.

 _Nitta’s request again?_  Miwa signs into Aichi’s hand now free of cards.  _Man, if you had a hundred yen for every time he did that, you’d be able to treat all of us to good gyuudon._

Aichi laughs, soundless and open.  _It’s fine with me, really. I actually kind of like it._

 _Aichi-nii,_  Kamui signs into Aichi’s other hand, adding to the conversation.  _It’s the VF Koushien Quarter Finals soon. You’ll come won’t you?_

Aichi holds Kamui’s hands firmly in his own and nods.  _I wouldn’t miss it_.

“Aren’t you going to tell him though?” Miwa asks out loud.

“About what?” comes Kai.

Miwa signs for Aichi as he speaks. “Dr. O and the organizers want Aichi and Ren to participate in an exhibition match.”

Aichi looks at Miwa with surprise.  _Me in a match?_  His expression turns wistfully unsure. He hasn’t participated in any competitive events ever since…

Kai takes his hand and gently signs,  _Would you like to?_

Aichi feels a tug in his chest and the heat flood his palms. He is sure Kai can feel it too. He nods, shy but resolute.  _I’d love to, if they’d have me._

Kamui breaks into a relieved smile. “That’s really great! I’ll go tell the others!”

Kai feels a squeeze. Aichi’s hand is still in his.

**→**


	2. strength, trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardest part is starting over.

It’s almost a sick, cruel joke how alive Toshiki Kai is—healthy, uninjured, whole, with dignity, principles, and memory intact, among important others.

He stands in front of Sendou Aichi’s front door, about to face his biggest endeavor yet, one that left him not with excitement as in the thrill of a cardfight, but with near-crippling dread and a kind of fear he hadn’t known until now.

Today he is the bearer of bad news, and as he moves to ring the doorbell and sees his hand shake, he laughs at himself—dry and resigned.

Miwa watches from the front gate, where the motorbike is parked, and does not envy his position. Outwardly, Kai looks composed as he always does, but Miwa knows better.

From the way Kai had gripped his arm as Naoki impatiently explained how Aichi was already fighting within an inch of his life—“It was a miracle he hasn’t died!”—when Kai woke to Ren and Tatsunagi Takuto being carted off into ambulances, throngs of exhausted people (he belatedly realized they were Vanguard players), and Aichi himself being frantically administered artificial resuscitation—“His heart beat is slowing down! We can’t get his vitals to stabilize!”—while Souryuu Leon grimly looked on;

From the way color drained from Kai’s already pale face as he breathed, “I did this…” and never in Miwa’s life had he heard three words carry so much heaviness as he had never seen the man who uttered them look so small and lonely. Naoki had ‘tsk’-ed and yelled “You’re gonna be like that _now?!_ ” before storming off to help the paramedics; from the way Kai finally let go of Miwa’s arm, leaving cold, sweaty white lines in his skin did Miwa know this was _not_ the time for Kai to be alone. Kai needed support, Kai needed…

“Kai,” Miwa had grabbed his shoulders and stared straight into teal green eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“…Miwa…” Kai’s voice broke and Miwa had to look away. God, he hadn’t cried since he was five.

The door opens and Aichi’s mother invites Kai inside. He can only wish him luck.

“You’re Kai-kun, aren’t you?” she asks, settling themselves in their quaint sitting room. “Aichi always talks about you. How is he? Emi’s tried to explain it to me, how he’s fighting Void and people Reversed, but I don’t really understand it.”

Her hands clench and unclench in her skirts. “It’s been a week…” she adds quietly.

Kai’s throat constricts, not knowing how to start. Emi peeks in from the adjacent kitchen doorway and immediately frowns.

“Oh Emi, can you get tea?”

Without a word, she turns her heel and does as she is told, annoyance apparent. Kai is not surprised. All week, he’s gotten varying degrees of glaring and avoidance from friends. Misaki spends her afternoons in the shop; whether or not she visits Aichi, Kai hasn’t seen her to know. Naoki, on the other hand, is near protective of Aichi, barely disguising his slow-to-dissipate anger every time his visits end and sees Kai start his. Kamui and Shingo have joined the Singaporeans in Trauma Debriefing operations in New York (perhaps in an attempt to distract themselves, maybe). Even Miwa is less talkative than usual. If Kai could, he would avoid _himself_.

“He defeated Void,” Kai begins. “He…took it into himself...to contain it. And it’s my fault he had to…”

He feels rather stupid, talking and explaining things, unsure of whether or not Aichi’s mother understands the importance of what Aichi’s done, and he dearly wants her to. Kai unknowingly mirrors her, clenching and unclenching his own hands. The hands he looked upon with horror as he returned to his senses raw, perplexed, and disbelieving that he did what he did; his body fizzing and tingling from having Void freshly ripped from his soul; his mind replaying his memories like he was watching something familiar yet foreign—fights, sneers, laughs in his own voice, his own face. _It’s all you_ , he hears. And it’s true.

“Kai-kun?”

Aichi’s mother is looking at him kindly. He ‘oof’s a bit in surprise when she takes his face in her hands and gives his cheeks a good-natured squish.

“Chin up, dear,” she says. “Aichi’s told me about you a lot more than you’d probably want to hear, so I can safely say that whatever you did isn’t your fault. Aichi wouldn’t want you to think that.”

It’s the same thing as Miwa said. This woman is incredibly kind, and he doesn’t want to hurt her. He utters the first of several thousand apologies he owes.

“Aichi’s…Aichi is in the hospital.”

Aichi’s mother stiffens, eyes going dark and wide, but otherwise stays silent, waiting for Kai to continue.

“Void. The fight with Void took a whole lot out of him. He was already very weak. Void was consuming his life, and when he had won, he had almost none left. He…”

It’s all very funny, how clear and straightforward Kai is stumbling over his words, how his heart is beating in his neck and how is voice is breaking. He is afraid of saying it. He doesn’t want them to know how Aichi forced Void to give back his life by sacrificing his own, lest he be deemed a life unworthy of saving. Kai wants to disprove his own fears, and until he does, even if it takes a lifetime of repentance, he’ll keep his mouth shut.

“The doctor says his health is at a critical low.” Breathing shallow. Constant pain. “They can’t find any known cause.” They don’t know that Void is still eating him alive and Aichi’s still fighting. “He wants to live, and he will. We just aren’t sure if he’ll come out of this whole. His senses are deteriorating.”

There is a dull thud of thick ceramic cups on rug-covered wood. Hot tea splashes against Emi’s legs and stains her socks, but she doesn’t notice. She stands frozen, glaring at Kai with increasing indignance, eyes brimming with tears.

“Emi—“ her mother starts.

“What do you mean?” she asks, voice low and trembling.

Kai feels his own irritation welling within him—at himself, at what’s happened, at Void, at why he’s still here, at Aichi’s mother still worrying about him. Kai probably looks close to breaking down himself.

“Emi, don’t be mad.” She hugs her daughter tight. “Your brother is still alive.”

Emi starts crying.

“At least your brother is still alive,” their mother repeats in a whisper, like a reassurance to herself.

Kai takes it as a cue to leave and rises to his feet, bemused at how weak his knees have gotten. He bows low and strides toward the door.

“Kai-kun!” Aichi’s mother calls, face flushed and a teary, relieved smile gracing her features. Kai wants it to stop. “Thank you!”

Kai bows once more, lower, and shuts the door behind him.

“You drive. Please,” he tells Miwa, hands cold and unsteady as he straps on his helmet. Miwa’s heart goes out to him, but he says nothing as he mounts the bike and starts the engine.

**→**


	3. words, silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A century of noise.

Void emits an unearthly howl as it is wrenched from its last suitable vessel. It writhes on the ground, weak and desperate.

_i need a body_

It sees Aichi on his knees, hands splayed open on the cold floor, legs no longer able to support his weight. His breathing is labored and hard. His cards are scattered all around him.

_i need to find a body_

Aichi can barely keep his consciousness. The sheer will that kept him standing all this time has morphed into relief and with it the reality that he has almost zero energy left. The Reversal Kai dealt him with during their first fight is rearing its shaggy head, no longer held back by determination or panacean paladins. Red hot hatred rapidly whips up from the pits of his stomach, to his back, his shoulders, his neck, and up into his face. It’s calling out to the swirling mass of Void around him—pulsing, curling, and swelling.

_the child the child_

Aichi pulses, curls, and swells with them, helplessly pulled along their current. His breath gasps and hitches as if drowning. Void closes around him, dancing with anticipation.

There is one more Reverse fighter to defeat, the one within himself. Only then will it all be over. Aichi’s vision swims, darkening and reddening around the edges. He sees Kai, lying unconscious a few feet away, face calm—smiling even, the tiniest to smiles. Indeed, despite all, they had a fulfilling fight. Aichi’s heart throbs painfully, sweetly, and in that moment, he knows it is his own.

_this stupid child!_

Void booms triumphant, thundering red, and flies straight for the boy’s crouched form. Aichi looks up at it, brilliant blue eyes shining with life and defiance. Void doesn’t have time to hesitate before it is consumed.

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

 

Shrieking, screeching, kicking, yelling, crying— _tantrums_ , Aichi realizes wide-eyed in a funny moment of clarity before his mind is once more consumed by Void’s anger. He cannot distinguish which thoughts are his own and whether or not the screams he is hearing are of his own voice until he kicks himself in the face and with a jolt, realizes it’s been a week since he and Void have been trapped within himself.

He only has his clothes on. Without his deck, Aichi feels ridiculously naked. Void snickers at him and Aichi aims a punch at it, but he’s never been particularly remarkable at physical things, so he misses. Void wraps itself around his arms and slams him into the watery white surroundings with a sickening splash.

Aichi almost drowns again.

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

 

Two months in and Void seems to have calmed down. It comes to understand that Aichi has a natural resistance built into him, a sort of benevolent glowing energy that Void despises, but nothing it can’t overcome.  It dresses as a gentleman for him, cool as you please, charismatic, tempting.

It searches Aichi’s heart, his memories, what his deepest desire could be so it can drag them out and make them bloom—beautiful, big, and fantastical. It puts on the smiling faces of his friends, Naoki, Shingo, Kourin, Misaki, Kamui…

_You wish for their happiness dont you You want to keep playing with them forever_

Void whispers and Aichi closes his eyes, ignoring the shudder that spreads across his back. Void doesn’t miss it.

It puts on Kai’s face, the one Aichi sees in dreams and leans in close, using Kai’s lips.

_You want_

But Aichi hates it and sulks spectacularly, igniting stinging blue sparks from everywhere they’re connected before marching off somewhere (a corner, Void presumes) and hugging his knees, refusing to speak with it, heart and mind tightly shut with a pout.

Later that evening, Void finds itself hovering around him, blank and keenly observant.

_What do you want_

The query is straightforward, loud and resonant within Aichi’s soul. He shakes his head to clear it from the tingles and tries to want nothing.

He feels Void pulse in annoyance.

_I will find it and in time you will fall_

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

 

For a year, Aichi feels himself expand and contract as Void searches every nook and cranny of wherever they are, returning to him with bits and pieces of everyone it’s ever been into, divulging secrets like a gossiping neighbour, endorsing various versions of paradise like a seasoned salesperson, overwhelming Aichi with sights, sounds, sensations, and desires that creep up his thighs, wrap around his waist, his hips, his chest, his throat and they squeeze and squeeze and tease.

By the end of every day, Aichi feels tired and thoroughly violated, light-headed, floating, ankles shackled and thankfully anchored somewhere.

Through his hazy and frustrated mind, Void simply laughs and tells him _more_.

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

 

A century of noise.

Aichi’s eyes roll back in his head as his mind is assaulted with all the knowledge in the world, drowning out everything else. From his lips pour names, dates, numbers, places, languages, facts, science, history, songs, and constellations. Void feeds him with all their enthusiastic discoveries and Aichi feels like a soda bottle cracked open, numb, fizzing with a million tiny words and bubbles rising from his spine to the top of his head and into the rest of the week.

It feels incredibly good.

His left side warps, blackened and paper thin. He hears a crinkle where his hand should be. When Aichi dazedly turns to look, it’s a fist-sized crumple, like a page torn and thrown.

His leg he folds into a butterfly.

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

 

Void appears before Aichi in tall rectangular blocks, like a Council.

Aichi gazes up at it, old, mellow but fond.

_Will you listen to me?_

Void does not compute, all things worldly catalogued in neat stacks and files filling its sturdy structure. Aichi knows, because he’s still connected to them and can hear the knowledge filtering into his brain, steadily, quietly. He smiles and takes Void by the hand, inviting it to sit with him.

And Aichi speaks…

…divulging a small world of his own, just as colored, just as rich and Void rounds at the corners before melting into mild intrigue—attracted, infatuated, in love with the inexplicably addictive construct that is Sendou Aichi.

He speaks of gratefulness and giving, and Void imagines the saints and their deeds. He speaks of determination and ambition, and Void imagines the conquests of kings. He speaks of successes and failures, and Void imagines humans in their strife, working tirelessly to overcome it. He speaks of devotion, kindness, and sacrifice, and Void imagines heroes dying for their countries. He speaks of his mother, his family, and his friends, and Void imagines more still.

And when he speaks of love with one face so powerful an image, Void looks at Aichi with a mix of awe and jealousy, silent and pensive it almost takes Aichi by surprise when the mechanical hum in the back of his mind ceases.

_You,_ it says.

_Me,_ Aichi replies.

And Void begins to want him, his structure, his self, his world, what he sees, what he hears, what he feels, because it’s nothing compared to all the stars and the vastness of the universe.

Aichi sees the struggle in its spirit, the yearning so strong he can call it his own. How long has he known this shadow, this eager, earnest, ever hungry curiosity that is in the shape of himself?

_I’ll give it to you._

He takes Void’s hands in his and laces their fingers. _My eyes, my ears, my voice. You can take them and know and live._

Void shrinks and grows, quivering then quaking with excitement. It carefully places its hands over Aichi’s ears and touches their foreheads. Aichi marvels at how humanly warm Void has become. They breathe together, and a familiar darkness pushes into him while at the same time, something leaves.

A soft kiss of thanks is gently planted on his forehead before he is finally granted peaceful sleep after a long, long time.

When Aichi truly wakes, there is only feeling left and smells—smooth, austere sheets beneath his palms, the faint sterile brew of chemicals in his nose.

Real is a word he hasn’t thought of in a while. He feels raw, apprehensive, and lost.

A presence to his right makes itself known.

_Void?_

It’s different, strong yet gentle. There’s a familiar scent of something he's always known but never really considered before.

_Kai…_

Aichi’s hand moves.

He suddenly feels surprise and disbelief emanating in waves. Aichi doesn’t know how to respond, more amazed he can actually sense things like these almost tangibly. He feels talking, air produced by speech, and instinctively holds up his hands to try and grab it.

They’re gripped tightly (to Aichi’s surprise again) by large hands, warmer and hotter than anything he’s ever felt, but also cold with nervous sweat. They’re shaking, and he feels words ghost over his knuckles.

_Aichi…Aichi_

Aichi inhales sharply and tires to call Kai’s name, but doesn’t feel himself produce any sort of sound. Drip drops fall on his hands being gripped so tight and _oh_.

It’s the first time Aichi witnesses Kai cry.

He brings their hands to his own mouth and clearly forms _ta da i ma_ with his lips.

_Okaeri…_ Kai breathes. _Okaeri_

**→**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tadaima - I'm home  
> okaeri - Welcome home


	4. uncertainty, laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions and baby steps.

He touches Kai’s face slowly, gently; exploring the rise of his cheeks, the slope of his nose, his closed eyes. Kai patiently lets him. Aichi’s hands smell of freshly laundered sheets, and when two quiet fingers come to rest on his lips and linger there, he wonders what it means.

Aichi sits up with a small smile before turning to where he senses his mother is and reaching out to do the same. She gladly lends her face to curious hands and gives a watery smile as his patting reminds her of the time her son was a child and fit in her arms and patted her face the same way only with much smaller hands.

Aichi feels his mother’s cheeks heat and cool before he realizes she’s crying. He all but rises from his bed and gives her a fierce embrace which she returns with the same intensity.

Kai quietly excuses himself from the hospital room and joins Miwa sitting on one of the waiting benches in the hallway.

“It’s been some tough weeks,” Miwa remarks.

Three weeks and a half, to be exact. It’s already Wednesday.

Kai thinks it feels much, much longer.

“You skipped class yesterday,” Miwa continues. “If I’d known it was because Aichi woke up, I would’ve skipped too.” There is a pause and a small laugh. “Well, I’m skipping now.”

Kai looks at him.

“I was worried, you know. Can’t leave you alone with yourself. Goodness knows what happens when you think too much!” Miwa grins and Kai tuts in annoyance.

“What did you think I was going to do, kill myself?”

The smile ebbs from Miwa’s face as he looks down at his hands. “You looked like you were going to. Everyday.” As if doing so would bring him back. “That or murder everybody.”

Miwa weakly laughs again before checking his phone. Kai sighs before leaning back in his seat.

“Well?” he asks.

“Kamui and Shingo are taking the soonest flight back from New York. Naoki, Misaki, and Kourin are heading over here the minute classes are over. Gouki’s coming along with everyone from Otoko Mae—“ Kai’s eyes widen slightly. “—Rekka already knows since she heard it from Emi. They’ll be dropping by with Suiko and Mai after class as well. Ren and the others will be here around evening. Tetsu says he’s doing team captain stuff for once.”

“Isn’t that a little too many people?”

Miwa shuts his phone with a snap. “They’re not just _people_ , they’re _friends_. Friends who’ve been worried about Aichi as much as we have.” There’s a ring and Miwa flips open his phone again. “…Izaki and Morikawa are dropping by too. ‘What happened. Why is he in the hospital. Does this mean we don’t have club today?’” he reads in a deadpan.

Kai frowns. “Who’s that?”

“Morikawa,” Miwa says with a smirk.

“What does he mean ‘what happened’? Doesn’t he know?”

Miwa lets out a huff of amusement. “You gotta give credit to Izaki for this one. They were at Okinawa when the Void business broke out. Izaki wouldn’t let Morikawa cardight anyone but him. It was a good thing too they were too busy to fight in the first place.”

“Okinawa? Why would they be at Okinawa?”

“Izaki’s uncle owns a small beach resort near Manza and they were asked to help out. It was summer break after all…”

Summer break.

 _Summer break_.

The normality of the world sounded so absurd that a laugh couldn’t help but bubble up Kai’s chest.

“I don’t think I did any of my homework,” he says and laughs again.

Miwa stares. It’s a sound that’s amazingly nostalgic yet foreign, something he hasn’t heard since they were kids, if at all. It warms Miwa from the belly up. He wisely refrains from commenting lest he loses the moment, and instead, he laughs along.

“Aw man, homework! I don’t think I’ve done mine either. Summer break! God, what the heck is that…”

The laughter escalates into outright belly laughs that neither of them could stop, even if there really wasn’t anything particularly funny.

“Your mom…” Kai manages between shaky breaths. “She sent me a box of peaches…and it was sitting outside of my apartment…for weeks,” Miwa’s laughs rose an octave. “Until our landlady decided to make it into jam for everyone before it spoiled. And…and the day we got back from Aichi’s…I walked in and everyone kept telling me, ‘Thanks for the peaches! Thanks for the peaches!’ and I kept thinking ‘What peaches?!’”

Miwa doubles over laughing, clutching his stomach with one hand and slapping his knee with the other. “That ain’t fair! My mom never gave _me_ peaches!”

“Sorry we’re late! Naoki insisted on getting flowers—“ Misaki, Kourin, and Naoki arrive, breathless, most likely having run from where the elevators are. In Naoki’s arms is a gigantic bouquet of light summer blooms with a soft blue teddy bear nestled in the middle.

Kai and Miwa take one look at them and burst into hysterics—soundless gasps of helpless mirth and Miwa going horribly red in the face.

Misaki takes a small step back, visibly disturbed and unconsciously grabs hold of Kourin’s arm just in case the floor suddenly caves in, or other such bizarre occurrence. She glances at the other two and sees them equally, utterly confused.

“Okay stop. Stop,” says Kai, sobering up. Miwa wipes the tears from his eyes.

“How’s Aichi?” Naoki ventures, still slightly perplexed at what they had just witnessed.

“He’s with Sendou-san—“

Aichi’s hospital room door clicks open and his mother takes a peek. Her face is dry. “Oh my, I thought it was getting lively in the hall. Please come in.”

They all give her a quick bow before filing in the room. Kai and Miwa stand by the wall, pensive once more but nonetheless in better spirits.

“Aichi!” The twin calls of Naoki and Misaki Aichi doesn’t hear, but he does sense them and turns to where they are with a small, expectant smile.

Naoki reverently places the bouquet in Aichi’s arms, earning him a little ‘oh’ of surprise, and silently watches as he gently touches the flowers, feels the velvetiness of their petals, places them near his nose and takes a deep breath.

Misaki sinks down on the chair beside the bed, face set and melancholy. Kourin doesn’t know what to do with herself.

“Is he really…” she trails off and Aichi’s mother smiles kindly.

“When his doctors examined him this morning, they told us he’s lost all sight and hearing,” she says. “But they didn’t know how or why. There’s nothing physically wrong with him. It’s as if his eyes, ears, and voice simply decided to stop working.”

Aichi finds the bear and brightens. He holds the soft plush before sniffing it. It smells strongly of aircon and fresh flowers. Aichi looks up with open gratefulness, placing the bouquet and reach out with both hands. Naoki and Misaki take them tightly in their own—Naoki’s is strong, stubby and rough; Misaki’s is small, bony but strong as well—both unbelievably comforting.

Aichi’s mother gives Kourin a small push, encouraging her to join them. Misaki relinquishes Aichi’s hand for Kourin to hold. She does so, surely, carefully, interlacing their fingers, pressing their palms together and giving a squeeze. And before Kourin could help herself, she hugs Aichi tightly. Her hair smells of sunshine and Aichi gets a lungful of it. He smiles and burns it into memory.

They stay at Aichi’s room for the rest of the afternoon, going out to buy snacks and drinks, managing to have a non-awkward conversation about what possibly happened that made Void leave with zero damage to all but one stubbornly self-sacrificing person, where Kamui and Shingo are returning from New York, and the whereabouts of Tatsunagi Takuto.

“He gave quite the apology, didn’t he?” Naoki says conversationally, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth.

“You said he went back to Cray?” Miwa asks.

“He wants to make sure something like this never happens again,” Kourin says.

Emi, Rekka, Suiko and Mai arrive a few minutes later. Emi gives her brother a kiss on the check in greeting and he pets her hair in return. They’ve come with food and soon the room is filled with aimless talk and cheerful chatter. Kai is humbly seated by Aichi’s side, tracing words onto Aichi’s palm to tell him of happenings. Aichi traces back his answers slowly, because Kai can’t quite follow the movement of Aichi’s fingers just yet.

_Everyone seems happy_

_They are_

_I’m glad_

Gouki and his entire crew join the party, bringing even more food, more talk, hugs to give, and hands for Aichi to shake. The mood dips for a moment as news of Aichi’s condition sinks in, but the boy himself smiles so much as holds hands with such vigor it’s difficult not to smile back, be thankful and relieved and unwind and talk and laugh because they feel they haven’t been able to do so in a long time.

Aichi’s mother is pleasantly surprised as she returns from placing Naoki’s bouquet in a simple vase when she finds the room quite literally filled with people. Some greet her, some are introduced to her, some express their sympathies, but everyone tells her, in one way or another, how Aichi is an important friend—incredibly kind and incredibly strong. Someone who believed and never thought of giving up despite the odds. Someone who stood by them, honest, earnest, supportive without asking for anything in return.

And Aichi’s mother starts crying and an uproar of concern erupts in the small room—“You made a lady cry, dumbass!” “Don’t use that kind of language in front of Aichi’s mom!”—prompting scolds from the older nurses—“You’re disturbing the other patients and guests!”—and looks from curious passers-by.

And Aichi’s mother starts laughing, looking much like her son when she does. There’s an airy pause as Aichi’s friends stare at her before simultaneously breaking out in a loud “Sendou-saaan!” and trying to engulf her in an over-enthusiastic, semi-invasive group hug, followed by a shrill “ _Keep quiet!_ ” from he head nurse over at the nurses’ station near the end of the hall.

“Kids, the lot of them,” Misaki says from her seat and takes a sip of her tea.

“Let them have their fun,” says Miwa. “It’s kind of amazing we got a day like this back.”

Kourin hums in agreement and turns her gaze to the bed.

Aichi can feel their conversations, as if drops to still water, expanding in waves, intersecting, increasing, until like rain, the air around him is rippling with life and talk and energy. He fidgets. A part of him wants to be with them, to laugh along and talk of things that don’t matter, because they are the most important.

Kai holds his hand and Aichi stills.

It is warm.

 

*･゜ﾟ･*

As promised, Ren, Tetsu, and Asaka arrive in the evening, a couple of hours before visiting hours end. The crowd has dwindled to a close few—Kourin had gone home with Rekka and Suiko; Naoki and Misaki promising they’d return after helping Nitta close up the shop; Emi doing her homework with Miwa helping, and Aichi’s mother and Kai having dinner with Aichi, carefully eating an onigiri from one of the lunchboxes brought earlier.

There is a knock on the door and Ren peeks in with a cheerful hello.

His presence is electric and Aichi recognizes it almost immediately. He sits up and puts away his meal. He’s not the only one who does. Kai pauses from dinner as well and nods at Ren and Tetsu as they enter the room. Miwa and Emi straighten in their seats and Aichi’s mother wonders who this man is.

He is still in his white uniform, having come straight from Fukuhara High, making him a rather intimidating picture. His gait exudes a confidence that warms the room, but the friendliness is laced with the spice of rivalry and competition—a world Aichi’s mother doesn’t quite understand but knows her son is inevitably entangled with.

She stands as Ren bows to her and gives the basket of fruits handed to him by Asaka.

“I’m Suzugamori Ren,” he says smoothly.

Aichi’s mother unconsciously blushes and takes the gift. “Oh, Aichi’s told me a lot about you. But I didn’t know you were so handsome!”

The mild surprise on Ren’s face makes Tetsu snort, Asaka redden as well, Miwa hide his laugh in his sleeve, and Kai turn away. The tension palpably dissipates and Aichi looks about for an explanation, or rather someone to give it.

Ren takes his hand and there’s a spark.

It fires through his arm like a thunder strike, spreading across his shoulders and throbbing in his heart, calling his Psyqualia forth. Ren’s power flows into him and mingles with his own, showing his mind’s eye an image he never thought he’d see again.

Cray, and all its vast lands, plains, mountains, seas, towers, forests, and flowers. Its people—the beasts, the warriors, the fae, the gods, the machines—and above them the endless, indescribably blue sky.

The color that bleeds into his being and stains his very soul.

Aichi inhales sharply and his world plunges into darkness once more.

Ren’s hand is hot in his. Aichi breathes again and picks up the sweet tang of Ren’s hair and the light scent of his sweat emanating from his uniform. He feels gentle waves of conversation somewhere across the room (Tetsu and Asaka perhaps? Naoki and Misaki haven’t returned) and the increase of concern Kai is radiating right beside him.

Something small, smooth and square is placed in his free hand—a card box, which Aichi realizes, with a wash of feeling, is his own. Before he could fully face Ren in a gesture of panicked query, he feels lips on his palm, and the words

_Come back soon_

breathed onto it.

There is a pause. Aichi squeezes Ren’s hand tight. It’s up to the older man to make of it what he will, because Aichi himself isn’t so sure.

**→**


End file.
